


82 Words with The Doctor

by Chellendora



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chellendora/pseuds/Chellendora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had nowhere to go. The Doctor could go anywhere. You fit like Yin and Yang.</p>
<p>Reader/11!Doctor</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You stared at the man who had stopped in front of you to look. It wasn’t so strange, seeing as you were standing on a ledge in the park with your mandolin around your shoulders and the case open at your feet. There were bits of coin and a few bills, but not yet enough to get you dinner.

Despite needing his money, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by his staring. Was he looking at your clothes? You knew they were frazzled. The blue jean jacket had long since become a faded gray, and your jeans had so many holes it was a wonder they were considered pants anymore; not even going to mention the shoes, because there isn’t much to talk about.

“Hey buddy, you want to hear a song or what?” you finally ask, your grip tightening around the small neck.

He smiles, and you think you’ve never seen one so bright and happy. “Do you know ‘The Silurian Triad’?”

You chew on your gums for a minute. “The _what?_ ”

He purses his lips and taps his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…must be much earlier than I thought…” he mutters to himself as he looks around. Suddenly he seemed oblivious to your presence.

You raise an eyebrow. This guy is quirky. You like that, means he’s different. With half a smirk you say, “Hey, how ‘bout this? I’ll play you a song, and we’ll just say you owe me one.”

He turns to look at you with the enthusiasm of a child. “Agreed!”

You nod with a chuckle, positioning your fingers on the frets to form A major, and then strum the first note.

* * *


	2. Alienated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna update as I write them, so submissions will be sporadic as I have school and a house full of kitties and parrot to take care of. Plus, I need to find a job and figure out student loans so I can finish college. ~_~ Liiife.
> 
> Obviously I don't own The Doctor, or I wouldn't be in this world at. all.

Many interactions occurred in the park. A mother and her son playing on the swings, a boyfriend meeting his girl by the duck pond, and then there was you, sitting against the trunk of a tree as far away from everyone as you could get. A hard mandolin case leaned against the tree beside you, you’re only possession now that—

You shook your head to force the thought to dissipate. It would do you no good to dwell on the past.

But it was too late. Now when you watched the mother, who was gently pushing her giggling child on a swing, or saw the couple lean in for a kiss, you felt a pang in the pit of your stomach.

Leaning your head back against the tree, you closed your eyes. “Alone,” you said to yourself. “Is this what alienation feels like?”

It was just as you finished speaking that you heard a whooping electronic sound. It grew louder until it suddenly stopped. You sat up and looked around the back of the tree, startled to find a blue police box where one used to not be.

“What…the fuck?”

* * *


	3. Assimilation

You clung to a rail in the TARDIS, your eyes squeezed shut and your legs wrapped tightly around one of the support poles. You knew you must look ridiculous clinging like a deranged ape, but you didn’t care.

The Doctor stood next to the control dais, blinking at you with a look of mild bewilderment in his eyes. “This is new.”

“Shut up!” you barked, though not too unkindly. You hated flying, so the TARDIS was a nightmare. “I – can’t – stand – flying!”

“But we’re in space!” he announces with a swirl, holding his hands above his head. He dances down the steps until he’s on a level below you. He looks up, his eyes round and childlike.

At the word ‘space’ your stomach lurches and you turn significantly more green. “Don’t say that!”

“Say what?” he asks innocently, “Space?”

You barely make it to the bathroom in time. (Looking back, you still wonder how you found it.) It might take a little while to get used to the TARDIS. So what?

* * *


	4. Backward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, I've sort of got a little American vs Brit thing going, haha. Unintentional, and all in good fun.
> 
> Also, Miss Reader is American.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Turning swiftly to the Doctor, you stared intensely into brown eyes. “Is this for real or are you jerking my leg?”

He blinked, momentarily confused by the idiom until - somewhere in that massive database he called a brain - he remembered the meaning. “Not at all! This is where you wanted to go, right?” He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the vicinity of the TARDIS and toward the rolling crowd of cheering people.

But instead of joining the group as you had assumed, he headed straight for the side of the stage. He showed something to the unsmiling guard, who stared angrily at it before waving the two of you inside.  
You thought you heart was going to explode. You latched onto the Doctor’s sleeve to steady yourself as yours knees turned to jelly, and then you saw him.

Only a few feet away stood a young Bob Dylan. The Doctor hailed him and he turned his head lazily to see who it was. His eyes lingered on you and your legs immediately gave out. It was a good thing the Doctor was there to catch you, and just before you passed out you heard him say, “Always liked ole Mick myself.”

* * *


	5. Belonging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it doesn't seem to follow the prompt, but the dots will connect later, I promise.
> 
> Also, I have the hardest time with tense. I always want to write in past tense for some reason, so I'm trying to break my habit with this story and vary the tense a bit. So if you see me slipping in and out of tense incorrectly, please slap me on the wrist.

“Usually,” began the Doctor as the two of you board the TARDIS, “when I ask a companion where they want to go first, it’s ancient Rome or a beautiful garden thousands of years from now.”

You stop on a step and turn to look at him. Your face is still flushed from the excitement, and you notice you have a twinge in your throat. (Probably because you could barely stop blabbering on to the Doctor about how Bob was your hero and inspired you to play an instrument.

“Why mandolin and not guitar, then?” he had asked.

“A mandolin was all I could get,” you said, but didn’t elaborate further. The shortness of your tone caught the Doctor’s notice, however.)

“I...don’t know much history, really,” you admit, adverting your eyes to the floor. Your education hadn’t been very proper. “And they always told me I didn’t think about the future enough.” You try a laugh, but it comes out sarcastic. When you look up, you see a familiar emotion in those eyes, but one that you have never seen directed toward you: Pity.

Going with your first instinct, you slap on a smile and straighten your spine. “Why don’t you choose where we go? I like surprises!”

His childlike grin returns slowly, first with little twitches at the corners of his mouth and then he explodes with enthusiasm, beginning to rattle off this and that and the other thing that made no sense to you, but you only smiled. This was how the Doctor was supposed to be. You decide to try to watch what you say.

* * *


End file.
